


what it's like at home

by ThinkingCAPSLOCK



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon, University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 21:35:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4936171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThinkingCAPSLOCK/pseuds/ThinkingCAPSLOCK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The routine is comforting enough, Daichi thinks, to make up for how tired he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what it's like at home

Daichi slings his bag off his shoulders, slides his feet into slippers, and yawns loudly. He closes the door behind him with a click.

"I'm ho-aaaaaaahh" he calls, interrupting himself with a yawn. A head of grey hair and a smirk lean around the hall corner, one yellow rubber gloved hand on the frame.

"You're _what_ , Sawamura?" Sugawara asks, straightening himself out. He pulls off the large yellow gloves, one at a time, and stuffs them into the front pocket of his light blue apron. "What's a hoah? Something new they're teaching you in university?"

"Ha, ha," Daichi replies, narrowing his eyes. He slides off his jacket. Sugawara keeps grinning as he takes the apron off and hangs it on Daichi's coat hanger.

They make eye contact. Daichi drops his coat on the floor. Sugawara turns on his heel, laughing, and makes a run for the kitchen. Daichi is immediately behind him, his longer legs easily closing the distance. He grabs Sugawara around the waist just as he slides into the kitchen.

It's an easy, practiced spin on the freshly cleaned tiles, with Sugawara's laughs in the air, Daichi's grin pressed into his shoulder, and the smell of fake lemon and dish soap. Daichi puts Sugawara down, gently, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"How was class? Was it hoah?" Sugawara asks. Daichi pinches his side and turns to the rice maker as Sugawara lets out a fake groan of pain.

"It was long. I've got a lot of readings to do tonight," Daichi replies. He checks the rice maker (empty) and turns. Sugawara holds out a bowl of rice.

"It's washed," he says. "Just in case you forgot to." 

"I forgot once, eight months ago, and you _still_ don't trust me?"

"It was two weeks ago, so no!"

Daichi shakes his head and starts the rice maker. Sugawara busies himself putting away cleaning supplies, and turning the chore wheel on the fridge. He wanders into the hall, returning with Daichi's bag and his own notebooks from the bedroom, and sets them on the kitchen table.

The air is full of the distant hum of the train, the neighbours running the shower, and the occasional creak of the apartment building. Daichi finds his eyes glazing over, the characters on the textbook blending together, the same lines repeating over and over in his head. He taps his pencil on his notebook absently. He feels his shoulders slump, and he places his head, slowly, surely, carefully, face down on the textbook, eyes closed.

A gentle nudge on his knee makes him shift his head. Sugawara leans forward across the table at him, brown eyes gentle, head propped up on his hand and tilted at an angle.

"Go nap, Daichi," he whispers. "I'll call you for dinner."

With a groan that rattles the table, Daichi lifts his head up, the textbook page sticking to his face most of the way up until it peels off with a snap. He stuffs the pencil in the book and closes it with another yawn. He stands, takes two steps towards the hall, and turns around.

Sugawara stares at his own textbook, absently chewing his pen, head still tilted to the side. His back is a gentle arc, his old tshirt and shorts ruffled and well worn. His cleaning clothes. His bare feet wrap around the chair legs as he leans in to jot a note down. A piece of hair falls out from behind his ear into his face.

Daichi takes four steps back into the kitchen. Sugawara looks up, and Daichi tucks the hair back behind his ear. He gets a light shove in the chest back, a gentle smile, sees that shift across Sugawara's shoulders as he relaxes.

As he looks back down at his notes, Daichi kisses that mop of grey hair. And yawns.


End file.
